


Alone With the Nightmares

by Tazuki



Series: Tactical Decisions Series [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Dead boyfriend, Disassociation, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Soldiers, Talking To Dead People, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:48:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29861820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tazuki/pseuds/Tazuki
Summary: A female war veteran has recently returned home and attempts to reconcile her experiences with reality. It doesn't go so well.PLEASE CHECK THE TAGS FOR TRIGGER WARNINGS. No descriptions of violence; no one dies on the page.
Series: Tactical Decisions Series [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1469117





	Alone With the Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> This is meant to be the prologue to my work Tactical Decisions. It can also stand on its own, and so that's how I'm posting it.

She woke up with a start. Her breathing was ragged, her hair glued to her forehead with sweat. Shei sat upright in bed, and held her head in her hands, nails digging into her scalp in an attempt to draw her mind away from the nightmare. 

She’d been having dreams again; since the end of her deployment, it's been something she faced every night. She’d witnessed too much to pretend that it hadn't changed her. She was no longer the spunky, flippant kid she was when she joined the Army all those years ago. She was no longer the self-assured young NCO she was before the war. There were images, scenes, sounds, smells...sensations that she would carry with her for the rest of her days. There were nights when she struggled to know what was real and what was just a ghost of her mind.

There would be no more sleep for her tonight. 

She heard his voice from behind her. Soft, as if spoken on a breeze. Fleeting, as if the slightest movement would disperse it. 

“You’re alright babe; it was only a nightmare.”

“...Diego?” His familiar pet name sent a shockwave through her. 

“Yes,” he breathed. “I am here.” 

“Are you, really?”

“Why wouldn't I be?” There was a lighthearted laughter in his voice that she remembered hearing on those rare occasions he shed his assertive-cool guy routine. Like Clark Gable mixed with Erryl Flynn. 

She felt his arms slide around her; though they felt light, delicate, not the strong arms she remembered. 

“Come now, let us sleep. We will need our strength in the morning.” 

His words echoed in her head; they were the last thing he always told her before they went to sleep. She nearly choked. 

“Diego, I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep anymore tonight.”

He gently pulled her down towards the pillow again. 

She tried to argue, but he shushed her and gently started to sing her to sleep. He sang to her in Spanish, and though she didn't understand a word, it had always soothed her nonetheless. In the midst of his soft song, she found herself drifting off to sleep once more…

She was awoken by the persistent, obnoxious buzzing of her alarm. There was a loud knock on her door. 

She climbed out of bed, the North Carolina sun just starting to rise outside the small window. Her small barracks room suddenly felt unfamiliar. “Diego?” She padded across the cold vinyl floor to open the door, thinking maybe he was the one on the other side. She opened it to the face of her team member, handing her a large cup of instant coffee. 

“Morning Marshall.”

“Morning Roscoe. Have you seen Diego yet this morning?”

Roscoe paled. “Ash, I hate to tell you this but Diego’s dead.”

She stared at him, shell-shocked. “But..”

Roscoe dropped his voice so it was gentle, soothing. “He’s been dead for nearly ten months now. I know it's hard Ash, but you asked me to be the one to wake you up in the morning… so that on days like this, you'd know the truth.” 

She looked at him, her eyes slowly returning to the face in front of her. “Right. Thank you Roscoe.” She took the coffee from his hands. “I’ll meet you in the office shortly.” 

With a heavy sigh, she closed the door on him… and on the memory of Diego, who still haunted her dreams. 


End file.
